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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391765">an eye for an eye, and a soul for too many</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadworkaheaduhyeahisurehopeitdoes/pseuds/roadworkaheaduhyeahisurehopeitdoes'>roadworkaheaduhyeahisurehopeitdoes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the life to which he clung [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Gun Violence, Dr Carmilla's A+ Parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guns, Hurt/Comfort, Punching Mirrors, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:01:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadworkaheaduhyeahisurehopeitdoes/pseuds/roadworkaheaduhyeahisurehopeitdoes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>jonny does not deserve to live.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonny d'Ville &amp; Ashes O'Reilly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the life to which he clung [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>an eye for an eye, and a soul for too many</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello. am i projecting? yes will i apologize? no<br/>please please please read the content warnings</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jonny wanted to die. This wasn't particularly surprising, as even on a good day he thought about throwing himself out of the airlock, but for some reason, in the dead of night it had crept up on him, keeping him awake pressing a gun to his temple. He had already shot himself three times, and the blood and gore that dripped down his head was starting to dry. He was weak. He knew exactly how to kill himself permanently, and here he was, unloading a gun into his head and not his heart. Hissing, he got up and walked towards the mirror in his room. It was grimy, one of the old ones from storage Nastya had silently brought up for him when his last one had 'accidentally shattered'. The map of scars on his knuckles had long since faded, but he still knew what the glass had felt like when he had driven his fist into it. It was like a thousand gaping wounds, the glass dust infecting the cuts making it worse. He had promptly shot himself to regenerate. It hadn't helped. Looking up, he glanced at his reflection. It was the same, yet so different. The long wavy hair was matted with blood and his eyeliner was smudged, giving him the look of a sleep-deprived raccoon. He was taller, sturdier, more dexterous, and older. There was no hint of recognition to the Jonny in the mirror looking. The man looked at him with blank eyes. Jonny hissed at him and shot the mirror. It collapsed into a cloud of glittering, sharp dust that coated the floor, taking the man who was not him with it. He felt a sudden rage boil in his body, like a vat of hot acid threatening to spill at any moment. He slammed his fist into the wall where the mirror had been and screamed, panting. None of the others would come check on him until they really had too, which in all luck would be a month or even a year. Picking up a bigger shard of mirror, he sunk down to floor. Tears were flowing out of his eyes, but he was determined that if he didn't acknowledge them, they weren't there. Carefully taking off his shirt, he held the piece of glass to the marred seam of skin and metal plating. He took a deep breath, and shoved. In that very moment, a knock sounded on the door. Flailing, he threw the shard of glass into the corner where it shattered, and slammed open the door.</p><p>"Jonny, are you alright?" Ashes' quiet voice seemed too loud as it rung through the room. They stepped forward and closed the door gently, never breaking eye contact with Jonny. </p><p>Jonny snarled. "What does it look like?" He hissed, backing away.</p><p>Ashes gave him a look. "It looks like you're fiddling with your mechanism." They walked forward again, pausing when Jonny backed up further. </p><p>Jonny rolled his eyes. "What's it to you?" His hand slowly traced his bed, searching blindly for his gun. </p><p>Ashes walked forward and grabbed Jonny's wrist. He hissed and pulled back, wincing like he had been burned. Ashes raised their hands in surrender. "If you need a repair, I'm sure Marius can get one fixed up."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I don't. What do you need?"</p><p>Ashes stared at him for what seemed like a century. It might have been. "Why were you messing with your heart? Why do you have blood all over you? Why is the mirror that Nastya replaced shattered? Why are you screaming? Are you alright?" </p><p>Jonny growled at them, pulling farther away. "None of your goddamn business."</p><p>"Yeah, actually, it kind of is my business. You're our lead singer, our first mate, our friend, our family. I'm not leaving until you tell me what it is."</p><p>Jonny quickly covered his shocked expression. "Nothing. Nothing 'is'. I'm fine. Put a mirror on the shopping list and leave my room before I kill you."</p><p>Ashes raised an eyebrow. "I would still be here."</p><p>"That's not the point."</p><p>Ashes sighed and sat on the floor. "Jonny, for the love of the gods, please tell me. I care about you. We all do. None of us want to see you suffer." They paused. "Most of the time."</p><p>Jonny snorted and buried his head in his hands. After a moment, he quietly mumbled, "I don't want to be alive."</p><p>"I don't think you have much choice in the matter."</p><p>Jonny slumped further and averted his gaze, eyes red with tears. "Not funny."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>After another considerable silence, he spoke again. "I don't deserve to be alive. Everyone I've killed, they didn't deserve to die. My father wasn't a good man, but he didn't deserve to die. They tip the balance. I have to pay. I have to pay for all of the people I've killed and for all of you. None of you should be here. It was only supposed to be me. I should have protected you from her and her experiments. But I didn't, and I failed, and now there are six other fuck ups on board that shouldn't be here. I should have killed Carmilla early and prevented this, but I couldn't, so now I have to die in return." He looked up, a hollow look in his eyes. "I am not a good person."</p><p>Ashes gave him a steady gaze before walking over to him and sitting down next to him, putting their arm around his shoulder. He leaned down and sobbed into it, silent chokes shaking his body. Ashes stroked his hair and murmured, "No, Jonny, you are not a good person. None of us are. You couldn't have prevented this, us, from happening. It's not your fault we are here. Those innocent lives may not have been so innocent."</p><p>A quiet "but they could have been" rose up from Ashes' vest. </p><p>Ashes sighed. "They could have, but there's nothing you can do about it now. It's ok, Jonny."</p><p>Jonny didn't respond, just sobbed until he ran out of tears to cry into Ashes' chest. </p>
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